Wild West Poems - Poems about Wild West

The Old Way

In the rain shadow of Majave Desert I eat hot sand
I am singing with their Death Valley
I have allowed them to build my faith under a Joshua Tree
                           

My Last Day in Ogalala

Road work had been finished
for the winter on an asphalt strip
north of town near a nature preserve.
I said good-bye to the hotel owner
and he invited me back
although the town was a lifetime away
from my home. We shook hands.
The town wore its history well
with a façade of an old west town
complete with a jail and post

my wild west came in on a tv set

Marshall Dillon in Gunsmoke
Clint Eastwood as Rowdy Yates in Rawhide
Paladin Have Gun will Travel
John Wayne in bunches of westerns
the pattern was easy....
The cowboys always win
Hero wears a light hat
Villain is stuck with black hat
Indians never win
TV in the 60’s gave me new terms
Dance hall girl, sage brush, wagon train
I reminisce about the wild west I

Gunfight in Tucumcari

Dust swirls in Tucumcari,
Two shadows draw at noon,
Steel flashes, sharp echoes,
Silence falls, one man stands,
Desert sun claims the victor.

Wild West

Pleasure and exposure, closure 
All of you steams and then boils over 
All of you gleams and beckons closer 
Raised well, all “yes, sir” “no, sir”

Naked edges, hollow scratches,
Bear witness as your world collapses
Get wild, dip me into the ashes,
Share your ambitions and your passions 

Wild west, child now, child then 
Insults are your ignorance,

Dangerous Dan McGrew

Who are you
Dan McGrew?
You sound quite mean
If rumours' true

You lodged yourself
Inside his head
Some seventy years
Still, now you're dead

A tale of love
Of bars and booze
The wheel of fate
Alas, you lose

The west was wild
Back in the day
As danger framed
Each male afray

But what of Lou?
The lady fair
Of unkissed lips
And tousled hair

A broken heart
May never mend
A scar unhealed
Until the

Wild West Rest Stop

A carriage stops by a water trough and an
empty roofed stable with a long bench. Driver
helps folks and gets a drink. He returns, tells all
they leave in one minute. A man of no rank says
why stop. Driver says, no stops for 150 miles and
no one wants to be near here. So, are we ready?

Whiskered Wild West Wonder Cats

Whiskered wonders of the wild west of mine,
Wooly and whimsical, with whiskers so fine 
Rode on a stagecoach not recognizing its line
Ended up in a Kansas town named Valentine.

Where tornadoes are plentiful and come a lot.
Their kibble blew away with their cooking pot.
Their catnip treats disappeared into the night.
Kansas is bad, one kitten said. It

A Complete Unabridged History of the Wild West - Well Nearly

[This is the poem that made me think ‘Hmmm… Sixgun Sid?’
Which led to a plethora of (at least one) ‘adventures’]

                                   

The Last True Sheriff of the Wild West

He was old and haggard, in the year nineteen twenty something
A tall lanky old man, with a worn out hat and a rusty ring
His squint blues eyes pulled together the wrinkles upon his face
With an expressionless gaze, that told of another time and place	

Half the day he sat in his front porch rocking in his

Sam Adams Gunslinger

Sam Adams was a cowboy
Back in the wild west
A badass gunslinger 
For hire to the biggest bidder
Often working for the law 
Sometimes working for the outlaws
He did not see much difference
He took the jobs 
That paid him the most 
Thought that if he did not do it
Someone else would no doubt 
Sam Adams thought about

Back To the Wild, Wild West

~ Limerick-Style Political Verse ~


Let's defund the Police! We see the light!
Speaking Truth to Power: The Left is Right!
   Coz they care about Crime
   And don't want to waste time
Posses, Mob Justice ~ The future's so bright!

Spaghetti - Snack Size For Cowboy Contest

Smoke signals rise from Sitting Duck cavern
In town the Pitt gang are trashing the tavern
John Wayne strolled in and he ain’t here to dance
They say that he walked like he just sh*t his pants

Don’t be a doubtin, that Marshall ain’t messin 
A man ain’t alone when he’s got Smith n Wesson
An outlaw’s revolver, a volley

Spaghetti - a Movie Not Made

Smoke signals rise from Sitting Duck cavern
In town the Pitt gang are trashing the tavern
John Wayne strolled in and he ain’t here to dance
They say that he walked like he just sh*t his pants

Don’t be a doubtin, that Marshall ain’t messin 
A man ain’t alone when he’s got Smith n Wesson
An outlaw’s revolver, a volley

Annie Oakely: the Legend of Little Miss Sharpshooter

Annie Oakely: The Poem by Shane Nielsen
Deep in the Ohio woods, to brown eyes aspy,
The wondrous echoes of nature give their humble reply,
to the spirit of sight, and the will to try.
Billows of smoke from fires who do not cease to prier,
ventured the aptly named Little Miss Sharpshooter,
the stakes couldn't be higher.
To feed the sick

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